


Terms of Agreement

by idol_hands



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, No explicit death of main characters, Slow Burn, Timeline Shenanigans, no beta we die like Wardens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26238967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idol_hands/pseuds/idol_hands
Summary: Hawke has had more than his fair share of trauma, but what if he wasn’t as resilient as he seemed?A story about what happens when Hawke gives up, and his companions must find their own way in Kirkwall and beyond.Equal parts DA2 and Inquisition. Eventual Fenris/Anders, but it'll take us a while to get there.
Relationships: Anders/Fenris (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 7





	Terms of Agreement

“The abomination is hearing voices,” Fenris deadpanned. “How unexpected.”

The trip into the Deep Roads had been trying enough already; bewitched Dwarves hinting at blood magic, the shambling near-corpse of an old Warden sliding in and out of the shadows at a moment’s notice, an ancient magister reawakening in a Warden prison and the disembodied voice of the senior Hawke, which had left their usually robust leader fragile and pulled taught around the edges. The mage had, of course, chosen this time for the last threadbare scraps of his sanity to give way. 

“Stop! Stop, please just make it stop,” Anders groaned, shaking his head as if to clear it from a physical blow. Fenris was accustomed to the mages’ inability to be quiet, but his running commentary was usually directed at a person or the situation at hand. Now, it was clear he was losing an internal battle. The corner of Fenris’ mouth turned up a bit in rye humor. How ironic that the mage was the one demanding he himself shut-up, but even he was unable to earn some silence. It was fitting justice.

“Lovely, a mage gone mad is exactly what we need right now.” Carver addressed Fenris, though he never took his eyes from the oblivious mage or removed his hand from his Templar blade. Hawke, still looking worn and strained, stayed silent and kept the group moving forward. He seemed unwilling or unable to handle the devolving abomination. Fenris suspected he and Carver would be responsible for putting the demon down when it fully surfaced; a prospect he wasn’t opposed to. 

The group moved steadily on, delving further into the Deep Roads, towards the Warden prison. The unease of the group was palpable. Every shift of the rock or splatter as condensation collected and spilled from the cool walls had the group reaching for their weapons. Yet, no threat came. Fenris’ hyper-vigilance made him increasingly aware that the mage was falling behind. He staggered as if drunk, occasionally unholstering his staff, but using it only as a walking stick. Fenris was unwilling to allow the mage, armed and unstable, to stay at his back, so he slowed his pace, in turn slowing the group. It was only moments later that the mage stumbled hard, nearly going to his knees, but instead doubling over at the waist, head in his hands, and let forth a pained groan. 

Hawke, finally snapping from his own thoughts and back to the present, rounded quickly on the mage. “What’s wrong?” he asked, seeming genuinely puzzled. Fenris fought the urge to roll his eyes; the mage had clearly been under duress for days. Though, he admitted, Hawke was rarely observant when it came to the plights of his companions when it did not directly affect him. 

“I can’t……the voices. The Wardens…..the Joining….I have too much taint in my blood. I can’t shut him out,” Anders swayed as he stuttered through his struggle for control.

“The demon overtakes him,” Fenris stated blandly, to guide Hawke towards the obvious conclusion of the situation.

“Please help me,” Anders pleaded, curling around his middle. “I will not……” he trailed off, suddenly stilling. Fenris thought the mage would collapse, but instead, he went rigid. Stiff arms suddenly stretching down, as if to catch himself as he fell, but instead, he erupted in blue light, and swung upright, seemingly suddenly both substantially taller and more imposing than he was only moments before. “...BE CONTROLLED!” the demon’s voice boomed.

Fenris saw Hawke recoil as if struck, and snarl “Do not do this to me, here!”. Rather than respond, the demon sprang into action, drawing the Mages’ staff and slamming it to the ground, summoning forth two pet shades. 

Entirely unsurprised by these developments, Fenris was the first to move. The first shade went down easily, requiring little more than two solid blows of his greatsword. Carver had rocked the demon back with a Smite, though it did little more than momentarily slow its casting. Carver was still quite green, and though he clearly longed to prove himself as capable as his older brother, his inexperience was apparent. Surprised by his ineffectual Smite, he was caught off guard by the second Shade which clawed a deep gash through his armor and into his flesh. Not a mortal wound, Fenris could tell, and likely scared the new templar recruit more than it injured him. Carver fell to one knee, gasping and holding his side. 

Maneuvering was now substantially more difficult, Fenris calculated. The kneeling Carver was between he and the second Shade, and Hawke was fighting the demon with sloppy, wide swings of his staff and spells intent on dispelling magic rather than doing damage. He was pushing the mage back, Fenris realized, to give Carver distance. Though Carver was unable to rise, it did give Fenris the room to engage the second Shade, dispatching it with more trouble than the first, given the abbreviated swings he was forced to make around the injured boy at his back. With a few awkward movements, Fenris finally downed the second shade just in time to be thrown back from the powerful burst of energy erupting from the demon. Lurching to his feet, Fenris rushed forward and leapt into the air, blade held high above his head and ready to land a killing blow on the abomination. Suddenly, Fenris’ world turned sideways as he was struck hard in the side while still suspended in the air. Off balance as the weight of his blade shifted, he was sent sprawling for the second time within moments. Scrambling upright and putting his blade between himself and the demon, now prone on the ground, he made his second move only to be thwarted by a strong hand pulling on the back of his armor at his neck. Nearly frantic, Fenris tried to spin and face his new, unknown foe. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a stern looking Hawke.

“Fenris, stop,” he demanded. 

“And let the demon kill us?” Fenris snarled, in complete disbelief that his efforts to dispatch the abomination were being thwarted. He swiveled his head quickly, moving to turn back to the demon, unwilling to forfeit to death with as much apathy as Hawke. 

Again, Hawke moved to stop him with a firm grasp on his arm. “I need him to heal Carver,” Hawke replied, with more than a hint of desperation in his voice as he looked to where his brother groaned on the ground. “I cannot lose another sibling”. 

“He will survive,” Fenris scoffed. “The mage will not.” 

~~

Anders blinked slowly as he reclaimed control over his own body. Though he could see through Justice’s eyes when the Spirit was in control, he had no say over where he looked and reorienting was always uncomfortable. He saw several things at once. Fenris was furiously shaking off Hawke’s grip on his arm, and Carver was grasping his side, blood pooling between his fingers even past the gash in his armor, and he was pale and shaking. Acutely aware that Carver’s injury was, mostly, his own fault, Anders focused on what he did best. Healing. He rushed forward, pointedly ignoring the elf rounding on him, weapon still unsheathed. 

Healing magic poured out of him before he even made contact and Carver sagged with relief, though the reprieve was only momentary. Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked fearfully over Anders shoulder.

“Fenris, no!” he cried, and Anders braced for the blow. Surprisingly, it did not come. 

Turning slowly and sitting back on his knees, Anders observed the rest of the group. Hawke stood to one side, staff hanging loosely from his hand, bladed end resting in the dirt. Fenris was pulled taught as a drum, lips pulled back into a fierce snarl, weapon leveled clearly at his neck, though what he was waiting for, Anders was unsure of. Deciding that levity might work in his favor he stood slowly, clearly keeping his hands down and closed, as a clear sign he was not casting. 

“Thank you,” he said to Hawke. “I guess they are right. You never can leave the Wardens.” He gave a helpless shrug. “I hope I can hold against them. Against them both”.

“You had better”, a still feral looking Fenris spat out, weapon now sheathed but looking no less lethal. 

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Hawke pulled Carver to his feet. “I can’t take you anywhere,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t clear to anyone who he was talking to, and all three of his companions felt the sting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! The first third and final third of this story is written, the middle is outlined and in progress. 
> 
> Im getting back into writing fanfic. I used to write a LOT, years ago, in several Livejournal communities. Now, I write for a living (all non-fiction), and I realized I just didnt love it any more. 
> 
> This story is to help me re-claim writing for fun, not just for profit. :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Feedback is welcomed!


End file.
